SIOBHAN EKEH
Strings 3
‘tongue for water’
May 2025
Looking Back, The Event Began at One
The first year, we found it nightmarish
radio birdsong
cobblestone
“world famous” pie.
Soft woman hanging cornerside
yellow ferry on the sullen tide.
I liked the plants grown over bicycles
we were writing a movie on the invisible chart
our train didn’t come and the
sidewalk was blocked.
Every conversation felt heart to heart.
It’s always heart to heart when your
chest is clear
fish tank rib
rusted gear a
squeaky brake that sounds sincere.
The people were all wearing red
it felt that way.
Red jackets on the kids
my water damaged shoes
folded map
red balloons
the captain’s hat.
Talking shit for days and days
the compliments are neutral
everyone an observer nobody a judge.
We are the worst people to ever set foot here
this cobblestone can’t believe what it hears.
You are thieved by wearing my coat
the store owner puts you in her watchful I
have never touched anything gold eye
didn’t intend to buy.
I have been back looking for the bridge between
your head and mine
thought it might be just as strange a
second time.
No, the roads are paved.
I am more alone than I know how to behave.
The potters are unfriendlier
the carpenters are inviting and have something to say
they make cabinets
I am unsure how to engage.
I ate the pie
the cashier was so kind
I sat by the water and could have cried
because it was so beautiful
or because I had return looking for something
impossible to find.
I stayed too long.
The sun set and felt good for a second
worse the next.
I walked like I’d seen enough
to get it all away from me
closed my ears to the birds in the radio tree
I’m sure I’ll be back just as nightmares recur
hoping things will go back to the way they were
but if I had any sense then I think I would know
this has already gone so I
should let it go.
Hands for Pearls
down in the dregs of the body that calcified and concentrated terrified
in doctrinated kidney stone that shines like gold and precious remnant
of every irritant the sand between skin reddened corner princess like a
flag in a valley …. place making beacon flare rocket sparker flying
inside and the money in my muscle tears pried apart scrapped heart
bent up set up something new titanium bright window too clean to
avoid turbine a language translation destroyed nouns only time is now
everyone is only one word how black the tongue oil from the ground
tongue for water hands for pearls for crushing things and feet for dust
the head that knows that speaks so ill like fractured ribs heart for
pearls and head for sins.
SIOBHAN EKEH
is a young writer and multimedia artist currently pursuing a BFA at Pratt Institute. Drawing from her Catholic and second-generation Nigerian upbringing, her works often explore themes of religion, human-land relationships, and lineage. Her writing has appeared in Drunken Boat magazine and is forthcoming in Speculative City, Mythaxis, and rainy weather days magazines.
